


A Promise in Petals

by memoriesofrain



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Duty, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Flower Language, Fluff and Angst, Full Bloom Zine piece, Gen, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Promises, Rites of Passage, Romance, Tattoos, the prophecy of the king of light, zine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesofrain/pseuds/memoriesofrain
Summary: In each Amicitia’s life, on their eighteenth birthday, they were to get a tattoo to commemorate reaching adulthood as a homage to their original galahdian roots. As many or as few as the person desired, just as long as they got one. It didn’t have to be anything big, but it had to hold a special meaning to the person receiving the tattoo.These are Clarus' tattoos.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia/Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27
Collections: Full Bloom Zine (Final Fantasy XV)





	A Promise in Petals

**Author's Note:**

> I had the honor of being able to take part in the [FFXV Full Bloom Zine](https://fullbloomzine.tumblr.com/faq). For my piece I decided on making a headcanon that Gladio's tattoo was done as a rite of passage for Amicitia and from there decided to focus on Clarus' potential tattoos. I wanted to expand on Clarus and Regis' relationship and this is what I came up with from that.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!
> 
> [Twitter link for zine](https://twitter.com/fullbloomzine?lang=en)
> 
> [If you wish to buy the zine](https://fullbloomzine.bigcartel.com/)

Clarus and Regis had met as boys, both of them still on the cusp of childhood, when wild adventures were still make-believe in the castle gardens. But from the very moment they met, they’d been inseparable and that did not wane with age. They shared in the hardships of following in their fathers’ footsteps and the trials and tribulations they faced, they tried to share the burden.

In each Amicitia’s life, on their eighteenth birthday, they were to get a tattoo to commemorate reaching adulthood as a homage to their original galahdian roots. As many or as few as the person desired, just as long as they got one. It didn’t have to be anything big, but it had to hold a special meaning to the person receiving the tattoo. Some went for elaborate tribal markings, others marked their skins with words to live by or an animal to guide them. Clarus’ father inscribed dates along his spine, each one denominating an important date in his life from his first day meeting King Mors to Clarus’ own birth.

Clarus, on the other hand, chose to get flowers inked on his skin.

He thought long and hard about which flower to get first, what he wanted to say with each flower. He’d spent countless hours poring through books on flowers and their meanings whilst Regis looked on in amusement while studying his own material. 

His first flower was a chrysanthemum, for loyalty and love, and placed it over his heart.

“It’s quite elegant,” Regis said, tracing the black lines on his chest. “What made you decide on this one?”

Clarus’ gaze did not waver as he wrapped his hand around Regis’ own. “It’s a promise,” he said, “a promise that I will always be loyal to you.” He gave Regis’ hand a reassuring squeeze. “And a promise to always love you.”

The blush that flourished across Regis’ face made Clarus laugh as his friend shoved him. “Don’t jest with me, Clarus.”

“Do you really think I would joke about this?”

Regis stared at him wide-eyed. “Truly?” His voice was barely a whisper, but the disbelief was clear as day. “You love me?”

Clarus gave him a soft smile and slowly pulled him into his arms. “I always have, from the very first day I met you.” Regis didn’t speak for a few moments, but Clarus was content to just hold the man in his arms. “You don’t have to say anything back, you know. I just wanted to be honest with my feelings about you. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.”

Regis pressed his face into the crook of his neck and breathed in a deep breath. “Do you think I don’t love you the same?” He was still quiet, but his voice sounded stronger. “Of course I do, stupid.”

Clarus let out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not very nice.”

Regis made a noncommittal noise and just hugged him closer. “Deal with it.”

He grinned and pressed a kiss against the top of Regis’ head. “I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?”

Clarus’ next tattoo was of a red lotus, which he got on his nineteenth birthday. It started behind the chrysanthemum and branched out toward his shoulder. Regis was just as interested in this one as he had been the first one.

“It’s a lotus,” Regis murmured, looking from the tattoo back to Clarus’ face. “And what’s this one for?”

“It’s a promise of love,” Clarus said, placing a kiss against Regis’ cheek. “A promise of passion,” he emphasized with a slow kiss against Regis’ lips. He languidly kissed along Regis’ jaw before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. “And promise to always be compassionate to your problems and take time to understand where you’re coming from and help you in any way I can.”

Regis laughed. “You really are too sweet to me, Clarus.”

Clarus shrugged. “You deserve it.”

“When did you become so romantic?”

Clarus felt his cheeks grow hot and shyly averted his gaze from the soft look in Regis’ eyes. “I might have picked up a few books or so.”

Regis’ laughter echoed throughout the room, but Clarus only felt his heart warm at the sound.

The week before he and Regis set out on their roadtrip with Cid, Weskham, and Cor he added another tattoo to his growing collection: sunflowers that crept from his shoulders down to his shoulder blades.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed from my previous ones, this tattoo also embodies a promise,” Clarus mentioned, slipping off his shirt.

Regis propped his chin on his fist, “Hmm, care to tell the audience?”

Clarus snorted and shook his head. “Don’t get cheeky, that’s not cute.”

“Of course it is,” Regis stood up and moseyed over towards him. “But nevermind that, dear. What do the sunflowers mean?”

“It’s to promise my dedication to weather all the storms we face together not only on this trip but throughout the rest of our lives.” He grinned at his love. “And emerge victorious on the other side.”

Regis face shuttered and his lips thinned. “This scuffle with Niflheim isn’t going to end any time soon, is it?”

Clarus’ shoulders sagged. “No, I don’t think it will.” He didn’t think it was going to end any time soon if the battle plans he’d looked at with his father were anything to go by. He watched Regis nod his head and turn away from him, but he grabbed Regis’ wrist before the man could walk away. “But I will be with you every step of the way.”

Regis gave him a brittle smile. “I expect nothing less.”

Clarus didn’t know if the tears that threatened to fall from Regis’ eyes were for the war they were about to enter or for the future that was looking more grim as time went on. He didn’t want to know.

His next tattoo was for his son and his son’s namesake: a Gladiolus. It was a delicate looking flower but it’d been inked with thick lines to give it a stronger look. Even at his birth, Clarus knew his son was going to be strong, but he wanted his son to also be soft- to allow his son to love and show compassion along with his strength.

He’d honestly never thought he’d become a father, at least not like this. But he needed an heir just as Regis needed an heir to the throne. It didn’t mean he didn’t love Gladio with his entire being just that it was under unique circumstances.

Gladio was oblivious to Clarus’ thoughts, focused solely on the new mark on his father’s body. Clarus grinned down at the boy in his arms and let the boy gum at his bicep, pressing sticky fingers against the lines of the flower. He heard the amused guffaw and simply turned with a grin as he took in Regis’ appearance.

He looked different now that he wore the Ring of Lucii and had focused his attention on keeping the Wall fortified, but he was the same too. The same smile, the same soft look in his eyes when he looked at Clarus.

Though love had found itself in their respective partners, it would never rival the bond they shared.

“He really is adorable, Clarus,” Regis said. He brushed his hand through the hair on Gladio’s head, mussing up the strands into an unruly fashion. “And his name... was that your decision?”

Clarus laughed. “Only half my choice.”

“But you suggested it.”

“Didn’t say that.”

Regis gave Clarus a sly look. “Didn’t _not_ say it.”

Clarus couldn’t help but laugh. Whether from being found out or the fact that they were still the same after all this time, he wasn’t sure. But he laughed all the same.

He doesn’t get another flower until Regis’ son Noctis is prophesied as the Chosen King. He gets the tattoo that night, shoulder still wet from Regis’ tears. It’s large and branches up towards his throat, the petals harsh with stamen that stick out from the center like thin towers. For once, the flower isn’t a promise.

It’s a regret.

A regret for Noctis and the life that will be cut short because a mystical _rock_ said it was Noctis’ destiny to drive away the Starscourge. A regret for Regis who was deteriorating before his eyes. A regret for his inability to do anything to prevent this future from coming to pass.

He stared at the asphodel on his skin and gave a bitter chuckle. “’My regrets follow you to the grave,’” he whispered, “perhaps a little too on the nose for this one.”

His daughter is a surprise, but no less loved. She was delicate and small in comparison to how Gladio had been, but her lungs were strong and he knew that strength would carry throughout her in time. His daughter, his Iris, she gave him hope and courage to keep going despite knowing how his story would come to an end. A promise to hold onto hope and that there was still so much good left to experience.

An iris for an Iris.

Regis made sure he knew that his joke wasn’t funny, but they both laughed all the same.

A week before the treaty signing with Niflheim, he gets two new flowers. The first is a series of jasmine flowers with petals that contrast with the asphodel that still sits as a heavy weight on his chest each time he sees it. He gets a cluster of them on his left shoulder, one flower for each precious person in his life. It’s the first flower that comes to mind when he thinks of those he holds dear.

The creases on Regis’ face soften when he sees them and Clarus can almost see the young man he fell in love with all those years ago. “Unconditional love,” Regis said with the hint of a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. “I remember this one. You gave me a bundle of them some twenty years ago.”

Clarus smiled. “The petals were all damaged by the time I gave it to you.”

“And yet I loved them all the same.”

“That you did,” Clarus agreed nodding his head. They shared a warm look before Regis continued to explore his tattoos. After all this time, Regis still enjoyed examining them and running his hands along the inked lines.

As Regis trailed his fingers across the last jasmine flower he paused and met his eyes again. “You got another flower as well?” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head in the same way Clarus had seen Noctis do on multiple occasions. “You usually only get one at a time.” Clarus didn’t say anything in response so Regis continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one.”

“You wouldn’t, it’s a cyclamen. It usually grows only around Gralea or the colder regions.”

Regis made a curious hum and stared into Clarus’ eyes. “And it’s meaning?”

Clarus felt something clench in his chest and dropped his eyes down to Regis’ hand that still rubbed against the flower. He felt bitterness and resignation in equal measures bubble forth as he stared at the ring that stood out against Regis’ finger.

“Clarus?”

He swallowed and pulled Regis hand into his own. “It means goodbye.”

Regis’ breath hitched and his lips thinned, closing his eyes and nodding his head. “Goodbye,” Regis mumbled, shaking his head. “I will never truly say goodbye to you, not even in death.”

Clarus maneuvered himself so that he could comfortably pull Regis into his arms. If they had cried, neither mentioned it. Neither said anything else, no words were needed. Though they had a week until the day of the treaty signing, they both knew.

This was goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you have time, I'd really appreciate it if you left a comment telling me what you thought of this.


End file.
